


Which Witch

by Ookami_Hime



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Norse Religion & Lore, Alternate Universe - Past Lives, Arranged Marriage, Deadly Premonition, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Open Marriage, Reincarnation, Shapeshifting, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 16:47:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5505278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ookami_Hime/pseuds/Ookami_Hime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here is what has been passed down across the millennia.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>First and foremost, Fenrir, the powerful wolf, a child of Loki, had been chained up by Odin because the All-Father feared the creature’s power and potential for destruction. Sometime after, Baldur, beloved by the universe itself—or so it had seemed at the time—was murdered by the wicked Loki. As hard as they tried, poor Baldur could not be resurrected and so his death had been the start of the foretold apocalypse, Ragnarök. It was amidst the course of these events that Fenrir broke free and unleashed havoc across the universe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now, you think you know these myths, but you may not know them as well as you think you do, because what you don’t know is that it wasn’t Baldur or Fenrir, two separate chapters in a larger brook. It was Baldur and Fenrir. Their stories were ever-so-delicately intertwined with one another’s and that is exactly what Odin wishes the universe would forget.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But, as said before, Lofn and Odin both remember that before there was ever Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes, there was Baldur and Fenrir, respectively.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Which Witch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rainne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainne/gifts).



> I love the myth of Fenrir, okay? So I said to myself, "Taylor, how can you make a stevebucky story that involves Fenrir?" and this was my answer to that. I'm a slut for Norse mythology, tbh.  
> Basically, all the Marvel characters were Norse gods or creatures in their past lives. I've tried my best to explain what the major characters godly equivalents are and what they rule over. Um, the arranged marriage is between Steve and Peggy. Steve and Peggy love each other platonically, don't get me wrong, but they are romantically involved with Bucky and Angie respectively and know this, so I don't think I'd consider their outside relationships cheating. Also, technically everyone dies except for Odin, but they're reborn as their modern counterparts, so...yeah.  
> Anyway, feel free to hit me up on my [Tumblr](http://www.seraphicsteve.tumblr.com). I think I may make a smutty follow-up to this because I wasn't confident enough to add it into the main story since I don't write it near as much as I read it.  
> Thanks for reading! <3

“ _I'm not beat up by this yet,_

_You can't tell me to regret,_

_Been in the dark since the day we met,_

_Fire, help me to forget.”_

_– **Florence + The Machine**_

 

 

Lofn remembers.

 

The All-Father may try as hard as possible to erase the memories of their forbidden affair from the very fabric of the universe, but Lofn will know their tale until the end of time. Odin had tried his hardest to silence her—he has wiped her soul clean and placed her inside a mortal body destined to die, even tried to pacify her with the child she has always wanted, but she will always remember because she had once been tasked to foretell romances such as theirs.

 

And once someone has been touched by a love so powerful as theirs—even indirectly—they will always feel it in their blood, in their bones, in their heart, in their very soul that no one, no matter how powerful they may be, can ever truly wipe clean.

 

Here is what has been passed down across the millennia.

 

First and foremost, Fenrir, the powerful wolf, a child of Loki, had been chained up by Odin because the All-Father feared the creature’s power and potential for destruction. Sometime after, Baldur, beloved by the universe itself—or so it had seemed at the time—was murdered by the wicked Loki. As hard as they tried, poor Baldur could not be resurrected and so his death had been the start of the foretold apocalypse, Ragnarök. It was amidst the course of these events that Fenrir broke free and unleashed havoc across the universe.

 

Now, you think you know these myths, but you may not know them as well as you think you do, because what you don’t know is that it wasn’t Baldur or Fenrir, two separate chapters in a larger brook. It was Baldur _and_ Fenrir. Their stories were ever-so-delicately intertwined with one another’s and that is exactly what Odin wishes the universe would forget.

 

But, as said before, Lofn and Odin both remember that before there was ever Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes, there was Baldur and Fenrir, respectively.

 

For the sake of the story, they’ll be called by the names you know them as.

 

-

 

Loki, in every version of reality, is the adopted son of Odin, and despite how hard the All-Father tries to prevent it, in every reincarnation, he will always be a nefarious trickster who leaves death and heartbreak in his wake, but that will be touched on later.

 

In this version, he had three children: two sons, the great serpent Jörmungandr, the great wolf Fenrir, and a nightmarish daughter, Hel. You know these three beings today as Robert Bruce Banner, James Buchanan Barnes, and Natalia Alianovna Romanova. With their births came ominous prophecies (not by Lofn, mind you, because she has only ever dealt with love) that they would cause more destruction than even their father.

 

Odin refused to sit idly by and let the troubles come to pass, so he tossed Bruce into the oceans of Midgard, where he would circle and circle the planet in isolation and remain unseen by mortals. Natalia had been sent to rule over the dark underworld, Helheim, where only the dead would keep her company. And James…well, James had been another story entirely. The All-Father had been so scared by the potential for power within him that he refused to look away from the beast for a second and instead took him to Asgard where he would be watched over closely by all. Odin had hoped that perhaps James could be swayed to _serve_ the gods rather than be an instrument of their ruin.

 

This had been how Steve and James first met.

 

By the standards of the universe, at the time they first came into contact with each other, both Steve and James had been children which explained why one was in human form and the other took the shape of a wolf—James would not come to realize his ability to transform between wolf and human until he had matured. Still, even as a pup, the wolf had been very large, and he could not stay true to one appearance. What is meant is that, sometimes, his fur would be as white as the moon, or would move in shades of brown and green that matched the earth, or burn bright in shades of orange and red much like the sun. It seemed that all that could stay the same with him were his sharp, intelligent eyes that were such a light blue they could have been mistaken for gray.

 

James was to be raised in isolation and there had only been three allowed to visit him at the time—Odin himself, the brave Týr who would feed James, and Loki because he was, of course, James’s father. All others had been forbidden to see the wolf unless otherwise stated by the All-Father, and no permission would be given to his sons—Thor, Steven, and Anthony. As we all know, Steven is not one to blindly follow orders that he does not particularly agree with, so when he happens upon the room that James is kept in one day, he heads inside to see James for himself.

 

It should be said that there is some truth to what you know about Baldur—later reincarnated into Steven. When he had stepped inside that room, Steven had been the brightest thing that James had ever seen up until that point because Steven was much like the sun. Steven embodied warmth and love and peace so much to the point that he physically shined with it. Understandably, James, who had been treated only as a monster and locked away from the world, believed that Steven came as a blessing and perhaps both their downfalls had been to trust one another so easily.

 

Steven, who only ever came with understanding in his heart unless convinced otherwise, had placed his favorite dish in front of James. Godly foods are something that one should never pass up the chance to eat, and while James greedily dug in, Steven slowly placed his hand atop James’s head and scratched behind his ear. James hesitated and almost leaned away from the foreign touch, but it had been hard to do when the warmth of Steven had seeped into his very soul, so James had tilted his head and then nuzzled into the hand. When Steven smiled, it lit up the entire room and every part of James that he’d believed would forever be shrouded in darkness.

 

This had also been where Lofn first met Steven and James, and she did not know it at the time—but would it have altered her decision, she had never been quite sure—but this had also been where she sealed their doom.

 

“Hell, Sunshine God,” Lofn called out as she entered the room and both Steven and James froze. “Has your father not forbidden you from this room?” James had taken a step back, started to slink back into the shadows, but she shook her head. “No. No, you have no reason to fear me. I do not plan to inform Odin of what has transpired here. I see no reason to, after all.”

 

“You are Lofn?” Steven questioned warily.

 

At the sudden distrust he presented her with, she raised a brow. “Indeed I am, Little God.”

 

“Mother tells me I’m not supposed to trust you.”

 

It was true that most saw Lofn and her penchant for forbidden love as a curse. “Between us three,” Lofn started with a little smile. “Your mother, your father, most of our family…they distrust me because they do not understand what I am and what I do. This is the same reason James is locked away in here, as well.” She reached out to stroke James’s fur and shushed him when he started to whine. “Whether they be mortal or celestial, most fear what they do not understand.”

 

“But why?” Steven asked quietly and frowned while he continued to pet James. “You’ve never hurt anyone before, have you?” The question had been directed toward James who huffed in response and Lofn translated the _no_ out loud for him. “What about you? Have _you_ ever hurt anyone before?” Steven looked back up at her.

 

“I have never hurt another, no.” It seemed too complicated to tell the child that the love she blessed most with ended in pain—worse than that sometimes. “The future is so uncertain.” She whispered. “Powerful ones, such as your father, control the present so they may try and control the future in turn.” Both the little ones looked confused, so she shook her head and smiled warmly. “You will understand once you are older.” No child likes to hear that and she tried to redirect the conversation before Steven could protest on behalf of them both. “The best you can do, Sunshine God, is to keep your heart open always. Promise James that you will do this.”

 

Steven looked as if he’d been handed a mission and turned to face James with a stern expression. “I don’t care what Father’s told me. You’re _not_ a monster. I promise to never ever treat you like one.” He held out a hand and James cocked his head to the side, perplexed about the gesture. “Oh.” Steven blushed. “I’m sorry. Father usually takes other’s hands when he wants to make a promise to them—”James did the best he could and lifted a paw into Steven’s hand.

 

It had been such a sweet scene and it had been then that Lofn sensed it, the sweet potential for love. Immediately, before they could move away from one another, Lofn placed her hands around their joined ones and poured her power into the touch, blessed their future union. It would be powerful, she knew, a love that no others could ever match. And when she sensed that it would last, her heart soared, because most romances she blessed burned hotly but were quickly snuffed out.

 

The doors to the room had swung open in the next moment and Lofn had been able to move her hands away before Frigga caught her in the act of blessing her son’s future affair. “Steven,” she breathed out in relief and scooped him up into her arms. “Your father has forbidden you from this room.” Frigga took in the closeness of both Lofn and James, but saw Lofn as more of a threat. Before she stormed off, Frigga snarled at Lofn, “Stay away from my son.”

 

Lofn hadn’t known it at the time, but Frigga had been justified in her worries.

 

-

 

There came a time when James could not live in the main palace. Other than the throne room—and Odin would not allow him to come into contact with those he ruled over—no other place in the palace could house him anymore. Underneath the palace, so he could be kept close, Odin created a secret enclave that had been rather beautiful—Lofn hadn’t been sure if it was made that way to pacify James further or not. It was here that James was chained twice. They had been tests of strength, Odin had told him both times, and even had some stronger gods attend the show. To make sure the illusion held, these gods clapped and cheered when James broke the chains—though they secretly despaired that James had become so strong.

 

Sticking true to the belief that wolves are quite cunning creatures, when Odin returned a third time with a new set of chains, James became suspicious and refused to be bound again unless someone showed an oath of good faith. Týr, the hand that had continuously fed James over the years, agreed to James’s terms. James had then been bound and was not aware that his chains had been created from the sound of a cat’s footsteps, the roots of stones, the breath of a fish, and the spittle of a bird. Why would that matter, you ask? These ingredients cannot physically exist and how can one break free from such things?

 

The stories have often said James had been so enraged that he bit off Týr’s hand. James _had_ bitten off Týr’s hand, yes, but it hadn’t been because of fury, but because he had been terrified. When backed into a corner with no way of escape, any being—human or animal—will bite back in an attempt to save their life. What else was to be expected from him?

 

Týr had been sent to recover and, in a fit of retribution, Odin placed a sword between James’s jaws. The drool that dripped from his open mouth formed a river in the enclave and it was named Expectation. Most believed the title was meant to be an omen of Odin’s demise, but Lofn knew what the river expected had been something not so aggressive.

 

-

 

Time passed.

 

Lofn decided to intervene.

 

-

 

Steven, who had matured and become both more handsome and beloved than ever, passed Lofn in the hall. Ever since his chance encounter with both James and Lofn, his parents had kept a close watch over him, so she had barely seen him up to that point and spoken to him rarely. Polite as ever, he asked, “How are you, Lady Lofn?”

 

“A bit cold, Sunshine God, but other than that, I am well.” Steven smiled at the nickname. “Ah, but I believe it should pass once Natalia returns to Helheim.” Lofn added innocently because most were unaware that Natalia—once she, too, had matured—visited the palace from time to time, and Steven had always been a curious little one. “How are you?”

 

Of course he had taken her bait. “Natalia?” He blinked. “Why is she here?”

 

“Why, to visit her brother, of course.” Steven seemed shocked and Lofn’s expression softened. “Oh. Oh, my child, you had no idea that he had been bound and placed underneath the palace, did you?” He shook his head. No, of course Odin would not have told the truth. The All-Father would rather have his son think that James had been freed some time ago. “You must not be too upset. Remember what I told you before. Most fear what they cannot understand.” She paused then suggested. “Perhaps you could show James some kindness on behalf of the gods, yes?”

 

Steven could be a fine warrior, Lofn mused, if Odin were to let him become one, what with how seriously he took tasks when he held belief in them. He took on that solemn expression—which intimidated a little more than it did when he was a child—and bid her a polite farewell before he made his way to find the secret location where James was held prisoner.

 

Once Steven could not be seen, a woman materialized out of the shadows. Lofn had learned how to spot Natalia, even when she hid, only because they had so many encounters with one another. Without preamble, Natalia ordered, “Tell me what you know.”

 

And, well…Lofn would undoubtedly need all the help she could find.

 

-

 

As Steven approached the pair, he took in Natalia. In that moment, t had been the first time he had ever seen her and she hadn’t been what he expected in the slightest. Her skin was pale and smooth, much like porcelain or—he then darkly thought—a corpse, her hair was crimson like blood, and her eyes were as sharp as her brother’s. Natalia was more beautiful than he ever would have imagined. Perhaps she needed to be to make the transition into the next life easier for the dead. He, himself, would be more likely to follow someone as beautiful as her into death.

 

Natalia’s lips quirked into a smile, as if she could read his very thoughts, and she then wordlessly bowed to Steven. James did not approve of the action so much, if his low growl was much to go by. “That’s rude.” She chided and went so far as to flick James’s nose. The wolf sneezed, snarled a little at her, but then settled down into the grass to sulk—as much as he could do with that sword between his teeth. It reminded Steven much of his relationship with his own brothers. “No need for that kind of language.” She added, although no words were spoken out loud by the animal.

 

“You can understand him?” Steven asked.

 

“We are bound by blood.” Natalia replied, as if that were some kind of answer itself, but Steven couldn’t say he himself could read his blood brother’s thoughts—not that he wanted to read Anthony’s wild mind or Thor’s enamored thoughts of Sif.

 

Steven pursed his lips, but said no more about Natalia’s statement. Instead, he scrutinized James, but more specifically the sword stuck in his mouth. It was cruel, what his father had done to this poor creature. He tried to come up with a reason as to why Father Odin would do what he did and it dawned on him, a possible explanation. “Were you the one who wounded Týr?” Týr and Steven’s father refused to recount the tale to the children. But sometimes, when the older gods were at each other’s throats (which tended to happen when a group spent eons around one another), to insult Týr, some would sneer about his _wolf-joints_ and ask if his hand bothered him. Now, Steven understood why. “Is that why they chained you?”

 

James snarled and Natalia chuckled in response. “What I am about to say on his behalf is edited because, unlike James, _I_ have manners.” He nudged her with his big muzzle in some attempt to knock her over, but she didn’t budge an inch. “The essence of what he wants you to know is that a pampered prince such as yourself needn’t be concerned with matters you have no business in. He—oh.” James rumbled, she paused to take it in, then relayed to Steven, “Run back to daddy.” Steven flushed in embarrassment and she pointed at the animal beside her. “Don’t look at me. It was him.”

 

“I dare you to say that to my face yourself.” James, with as sarcastic an expression a wolf can make, practically shoved his muzzle—and therefore the sword between his jaws—in Steven’s face in response. It only made Steven flush redder. “I think I like you better with that in your mouth.” He huffed then looked back to Natalia. “Can you not remove it?”

 

“And dare risk the wrath of Odin?” She drawled wryly and rolled her eyes. “No. I am allowed no interaction with the physical realm. I may only deal with the dying or dead. Even if I _could_ , James would never allow me, because he would rather be uncomfortable and suffer for eternity than let me help him.” James’s hackles rose in offense.

 

After a moment, Natalia eyed Steven, and there was a sly spark behind her eyes. “You, of course, could do it? You are Odin’s favorite son, are you not?” Steven shifted, uneasy. “You came down here for some reason, didn’t you?”

 

Steven mulled it over and pointed out, “You never answered my question.” She quirked a brow. “I was never told why he— _you_ ,” he stared over at James, “were chained up.” He frowned. “Is it because you bit off Týr’s hand or not?”

 

“You _are_ a bit of a pampered prince, aren’t you?” It seemed like a tease, but her expression had went very blank. “Týr was wounded _because_ they chained my brother up. He and Odin tricked James into those chains.” Her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed and Steven shivered at the chill in the air. “All he wanted was to defend himself and your father put that sword in his mouth out of spite.” Her head cocked to the side and she blinked innocently. “Is that answer suitable for you?”

 

Steven continued to stare James, but the wolf refused to look at Steven now and, instead, turned his head to the side. His ears dropped flat against his head and the longer he felt Steven’s gaze on him, the more uncomfortable and defensive he became.

 

“Until you prove you’re a monster, I will never treat you as such and neither should my father.” Steven announced and stepped toward James. The animal flinched away when Steven tried to reach out toward the blade in his mouth. “Please trust me.”

 

So…James did—he trusted Steven.

 

The tenseness slid away from James and he turned his head toward Steven. Natalia watched curiously as they interacted, but said nothing more. Steven was too afraid that he would seriously harm James if he tried to remove the sword intact, so he touched a hand to the steel of the blade and warned James, “This may become a little uncomfortable.” Then, he channeled the warmth into his hands and slowly, the blade started to heat up. If he could make the metal a little softer, more easily bendable, then… _yes_. There. There, he had it. Steven beamed in triumph as he easily bent the blade back into such a position that it could easily slide out of James’s mouth.

 

James’s ears poked up and he stared at Steven with wide eyes while he opened and closed his mouth multiple times. Steven had no idea how much time James had spent with that blade in his mouth, but it surely hadn't been a brief period.

 

“Manners, James,” Natalia chimed. James snapped his teeth at her like a threat and she cocked her head to the side and smirked. “Flustered suits you well, brother.”

 

Hackles rose up on his back again, but James shook out his fur, and then stepped toward Steven. James honestly looked…conflicted. Then, delicately, he bumped his nose into Steven’s chest and Steven assumed that was as much thanks that he could receive from the wolf. Steven smiled and scratched between James’s ears which made the animal rumble contentedly.

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

-

 

The next time that Steven went to visit James, it had been because the palace had become too much to deal with. To his complete and utter astonishment, when he stepped into the enclave and neared the river, rather than the wolf he expected, a man stood on the bank.

 

A _naked_ man.

 

A very _handsome_ , naked man.

 

Steven could not help it when his eyes wandered over the abundance of pale skin, watched the muscles of his back that bunched and relaxed as he stretched, stared at his brunet hair that fell down to his shoulders, and when the man turned to face him head-on, Steven couldn’t decide where he wanted to look most—his thick thighs, the toned, lean torso, or his handsome face with its dimpled chin and beautiful…familiar eyes?

 

Steven blinked, took in the chains locked around the man’s wrists, and…” _James_?” He sputtered and his cheeks started to burn. “Are you _James_?”

 

“Hello, Sunshine God.” James drawled and an amused smirk played on his full, lush lips. “You’d be surprised how hard it is to move to your human form when there’s a sword in your mouth.” Steven continued to blink and James’s smile turned predatory. “You seem distracted, prince.”

 

“I—” Steven cleared his throat, crossed his arms over his chest defensively, and looked over at the river. “I had no idea that you had a human form. I was taken by surprise is all it was.”

 

“Oh, is that all?”

 

His eyes narrowed at James. “Don’t make me think twice about my decision to take out the blade.” James hummed, stepped closer to Steven, and he was made more uncomfortable than he would care to admit by the closeness of the w—shapeshifter. “Do you not have robes to wear?”

 

“Why would I need them? I’m alone here unless Natalia comes to visit and if she’s bothered by my nudity, I can switch forms and we can communicate with our bond.” James spread out his arms to motion toward the vast emptiness of the enclave and after he lowered them, he stepped even closer to Steven who, in turn, took some steps back. Perhaps it had been because he had been raised without much human contact, but, to Steven, only those who wanted to seduce another would openly run around in the nude. “Does my naked flesh bother you so much, my prince?

 

In a bit of a bind, Steven defensively bit out at James, “You are quite talkative. You were not so when your sister asked you to thank me.”

 

James crossed his arms over his chest, mirrored Steven’s own position, but it was more of a curious gesture than an embarrassed one. “I didn’t take you as the one who needed to be thanked for such acts of kindness.” He raised a brow and it reminded Steven much of Natalia. “Perhaps you are not as noble as your family thinks you to be.”

 

Steven went redder, but it was due more to shame. “I did not mean—I only meant to jest—”

 

“You are _very_ easy to wind up, do you realize that?” James chuckled.

 

“And you are _very_ much an ass.”

 

“Natalia may have mentioned it more than once.” Steven pouted and bypassed James so that he himself could head over to the riverbank. Since he wished not to enter the enclave with sullied shoes, his feet were bare when he went to dip his toes into the water, but James stepped in close behind him and whispered into his ear, “You know what they say about the river, do you not? That it was born from the slobber of my open mouth and that—”

 

Steven tried not to shiver and let James know how much his presence affected him and peered over his shoulder at James. “I think there would be more of a stench to it if it were truly made from your drool.”

 

“Well, the mouth of a canine is cleaner than anything you will ever come in contact with.” His cheerful attitude dwindled some. “But if you had let me finish, you would have heard that my river, Expectation, waits for the death of your father.”

 

Steven’s brows furrowed. “Those are merely tales.” James looked away. “Are they not?”

 

James spoke no more for the rest of the time Steven was there.

 

-

 

Afraid that he had somehow offended James on his last visit, Steven snuck into the enclave the same dish that he had taken to James as a child as a token of apology. Steven stumbled upon James, who was in his wolf form, in a vast field of flowers where he was sprawled out on his back and basked in the false sun. When James started to squirm around on his back, rolling around in the grass, Steven had to cover his mouth to hide the smirk, and decided to save James further embarrassment and clear his throat to announce his presence.

 

It seemed to happen in the blink of an eye, the switch from wolf to man, and when James stood tall in his humanly form, there was a nasty scowl stretched across his face. “If you wanted to intimidate me,” Steven started slowly and strolled toward James, “maybe you should have kept as the wolf.” He then plucked a stray flower from James’s hair and showed it to him.

 

James snatched his wrist and Steven dropped the flower with a mischievous grin. “Shut up,” snarled the one with pink cheeks and a blush only made Steven all the smugger. “Why are you here?” He looked at the plate Steven held with his other hand and his face scrunched up in confusion. “Týr feeds me and what I’m fed is not…that.”

 

“I have not taken over Týr’s duties, if that is what you think.” Steven pulled his hand away from James’s grip and then held out the plate. “I was under the belief I offended you when we last met, so I wanted to apologize.” He frowned down at the food. “You seemed to enjoy it when we were children and I had no idea what else you would prefer, but maybe I should have asked you first…”

 

James shrugged. “Anything is better than what Týr feeds me.” While he took the plate, he eyed Steven warily. “I wasn’t…upset when you were last here. I was more confused above all else—confused by you.” He shook his head. “You trust too easily, I think, prince.”

 

“Steven,” he corrected and James raised a brow, as if Steven had just then proven his point. “Because I wish to be called Steven rather than _prince_ does not mean I trust you. I mean, not that I don’t trust you, but—” James rolled his eyes which rattled Steven even more and he defended his actions with, “Unlike my father, I try not to condone a soul unless given reason to otherwise, and you have given me nothing to make me distrust you.” He sighed sadly. “I only wish I could have stopped my father before he did this to you and for that, I am truly sorry.”

 

James held out his shackled wrists and shook them. “Does that mean you can’t release me?”

 

Steven held a hand over the chains and could feel his father’s power radiate from them. “No. They are too powerful for me to break.”

 

“Aren’t you useful?” James teased.

 

"I...could provide company?" He rubbed the back of his neck nervously when the other man raised a brow at him. “I mean—well, your sister does not seem to visit often and I have hardly seen Loki, so I know he does not come to see you, either. It could drive a man mad, to be cooped up in here without someone to talk to…” His lips pursed. “Call it repentance for what my father did?”

 

James scoffed. “I don’t need your pity.”

 

“That is hardly what it is.” Steven shot back. “Sometimes, I need a place to escape to, where no one can find me. This place is very beautiful and no one else in the palace, other than Father, knows about it. It seems perfect.” He blinked. “Would you mind if I visit you?”

 

“It’s only my cage. Feel free to do whatever you want.” James shrugged and rolled his eyes when Steven took on an offended air. “What? Is it notmy prison?” Steven frowned and James chuckled. “Fine. You have my explicit permission to visit whenever you’d like…on one condition, of course.” He waggled his brows when Steven responded with a quirked eyebrow. “You’re not allowed to wear any robes.”

 

Steven crossed his arms over his chest and James took a certain kind of delight to see the god turn that deep shade of red. “Lecher,” Steven groused under his breath.

 

-

 

“You’ve been followed.” James pointed out the next time Steven came to the enclave. The blond looked over his shoulder then back to James when he saw no one and cocked his head to the side in confusion. James pointed down at Steven’s feet where a patch of flowers had started to bloom. “Why the sudden field of fauna at your feet?”

 

“Oh.” Steven hummed, dipped his foot into the river when he was close, and both he and James watched as water lilies sprouted across the water. “Spring has finally come to the nine realms.” That hadn’t been enough of an answer for James who urged Steven off with the wave of his hand. “I think it happens because I give off so much light. Creatures and plants tend to enjoy it—especially the ones in here since all they have is this false sunlight.”

 

“False sunlight?” James squinted. “It feels real to me.”

 

“You do not know better.” Steven cleared his throat. “I apologize.” But James had taken no offense to the comment because it had been true. “Give me your hands and I will show you what the sun truly feels like,” he ordered as he held out both his hands to James.

 

James eyed him skeptically, but followed the order, and placed his hands into Steven’s. Steven grinned as if he had a secret and then channeled the heat within him to his hands and then into James’s. Minutes pass and James’s mouth dropped open before it morphed into an _o_ -shape, his eyes widened, and Steven couldn’t help it when he had burst out into laughter. James hadn’t even appeared to notice his companion’s delight because he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, as if he were actually basking in the sun.

 

When Steven believed that it would become too much for James—afraid that he would become addicted to warmth he couldn’t possibly have all the time—he removed his hands from James’s and the other man sighed in content before he leaned back to sprawl out in the grass. “Oh.” He breathed out.

 

“ _Oh_ , says he,” Steven snickered which turned into a squawk when James lashed out to kick him in a shin.

 

-

 

Perhaps it had been because James had been a breath of fresh air compared to the rest of his family, but Steven found himself more and more drawn to the man?—man-beast?—shapeshifter? A hard shell he may have had, but James seemed to be excellent company and, more importantly, he didn’t have the same biases that the other gods had when it came to him so he did not treat Steven any differently like the others.

 

When his visits became near daily, James took notice. “You come to see me more and more,” he pointed out and, without a second thought to it, reached out to smooth down the wrinkle that had formed in Steven’s brow. “I didn’t mean to say I mind, little sun.” Steven scowled at the nickname which had been used for him since the day he had shown James what the true sun felt like. “But is the life you lead so hard?”

 

“You…would be surprised.” James scoffed and Steven smiled drily. “Here, it is quiet. There are no parties where I have to speak with everyone. There are no older gods and goddesses who want me to take their daughters as my wife. You hardly care whether I shine or not in here. You don’t try to…to curry my favor—” he curled in on himself a bit. “I go too far. I’m sorry. These complaints are nothing compared to what you’ve had to deal with.”

 

Alone, aside from what little wildlife Odin allowed to live with him in the enclave, James had no one to impress and could not completely understand how heavy a burden it could be to put on masks around others. Still, he had felt Steven’s sun, and to think that he had to purposefully block it to impress people…it had seemed very wrong to him. James asked, “Is there anyone who knows you— _truly_ knows you?”

 

“A few,” Steven admitted. “My brothers never expect more from me…and I do have a friend or two…” He peeked over at James shyly. “And you, now, I suppose.”

 

“Good.” James mumbled more to himself then blinked, stared over at Steven, and repeated with a small smile, “Good. I’m happy to hear that.” He reached his hand around and gripped the back of Steven’s neck in a friendly fashion. “You can always be yourself here. Never hide your sunshine when you’re here with me, understood?”

 

Steven’s cheeks reddened and the blush crawled down his neck, but he meekly nodded in answer to James. James nodded in triumph and turned to look back out at the various creatures who darted around them—they adored Steven and often flocked to meet him when he came to visit.

 

With James’s attention elsewhere, Steven allowed his eyes to roam over the other man’s face—the strong, sharp jawline, the cleft of his chin, his pink, lush lips—and he had to force himself to stop before his gaze lowered even more. There had been a tightness in his chest that refused to leave him until he had left the enclave for the day.

 

-

 

“You shine brighter than ever before, brother,” Thor remarked one day after a friendly sparring match. The closer Thor and Sif’s wedding neared, the more nervous Thor became and he often resorted to sparring to release some of his pent-up energy. “And we are in the dead of winter!” he boomed and then sidled up closer to Steven. “What has my little brother so happy, hmm?” he wheedled while he looped an arm around Steven’s shoulders and pulled him into his side. Steven grinned and playfully dug his elbow into Thor’s side and tried to wriggle out of his brother’s sweaty embrace. “I would think you to be in love, if the smile you wear on your face these days is anything to go by.”

 

Steven shoved him away with a laugh. “You go too far, brother.”

 

“Mayhap not,” Thor sang.

 

“Just because you are disgustingly besotted with Sif doesn’t mean everyone else is in love too, you fool,” Steven deflected. “Speaking of which, do you not have an appointment with the future bride? You know she gets testy if she doesn’t best you in swordsmanship at least once a day.”

 

In retaliation, Thor punched his arm, and Steven took that as a call to battle and the two of them ended up on the ground in a heap of flailing limbs and punches.

 

-

 

When Thor and Sif’s wedding had come to pass at the beginning of spring, Steven approached Lofn during the reception. Like with most events, she was allowed entrance, but most kept away from her and she stayed to the shadows and corners of the throne room.

 

It had been a surprise to her to see Steven come up to her, but she beamed at him nonetheless. “Hello, Sunshine God,” she greeted.

 

“Lady Lofn,” he answered, chewed on his bottom lip, and inquired, “How are you?” Suddenly, it dawned on him how that question had been what inadvertently caused him to meet James—or re-meet him. As Lofn opened her mouth to respond to him, his thoughts whirled around inside his head, and he tried to remember every detail his mother had told him about Lofn and why he should keep away from her. “How do your powers work exactly, my lady?” he blurted and never allowed her the chance to answer his original inquiry.

 

Lofn beamed at him. “Ah, what an interesting question. I did not expect it from you.” Yet, Steven noted, she seemed to be completely and utterly unsurprised about his curiosity. Lofn looked excited in the way someone does when they are about to reveal a grand secret they held inside them for a long time. “Well, what is it that you know about me? We could start from there, yes?”

 

“You…” He paused and tried to mentally reword what his mother had told about her because Frigga had not been the kindest when she spoke of Lofn. “I am told you have control over…forbidden affairs?”

 

“Love,” she corrected patiently, “and I do not control.” Her smile saddened. “I can sense love, no matter who it is between, but…I suppose you could say I am somewhat able to see the future—no, not quite that. The future is so unclear, you see.” She paused, hummed, and mulled over how to explain herself better. “When I sense love, the closer I am to the pair, the more I can _feel_ the future of their romance and for those that I sense will have more hardship, I try to help them as much as possible.”

 

Lofn watched Steven fondly when he eyed her cautiously, the same as he had done as a child. “Would those that you have blessed…know? That you blessed them, I mean to say.” he elaborated quickly.

 

“No, child, they would not, because one must discover love on their own. That is, I think, one of the best parts about it.”

 

“Oh…”

 

“If that is all you need…” Lofn trailed off and started to inch away from him, but Steven took hold of her upper arm before she could leave. “Yes, Steven?”

 

Steven leaned in closely to her and desperate to know, outright asked her, “You blessed us, did you not? James and I? When we were children?”

 

Lofn gently removed his hand from her arm and wrapped it up in her smaller ones. Again, Steven had been reminded of when he had been a child and she had clasped her hands around his and James’s intertwined ones. “Know this, Sunshine God, love is love and will happen whether I am involved or not.”

 

-

 

“And here I’d thought you’d forgotten about me. You’ve been gone a week,” James groused good-naturedly.

 

Steven shot a sheepish, apologetic smile. “Thor and Sif were finally married and if you know anything about my brothers, it’s that the parties they arrange…last a very long time.” He situated himself next to James in the middle of a field and held out a hand to a sniffing family of rabbits. “I’ve spent the last few days in a darkened room, trying to recover from the copious amounts of alcohol I drank.”

 

James rolled his eyes, no pity for Steven’s _troubles_. “How exactly does that work for someone that shines? Actually shines,” he elaborated when Steven made to tease him about the unintended niceness of that question. “A problem when you want to kept in the dark, isn’t it?”

 

“I pay no heed to it,” he answered truthfully and with a slight shrug.

 

James looked genuinely shocked. “Truly?” Steven nodded in answer. “But…it is so bright— _you_ are so bright.” Confusedly, he questioned, “You don’t see _yourself_ in that manner, do you?”

 

“How do you mean?”

 

“Do you…not understand how…” James faltered. “That light inside you, it isn’t because of your godhood. It took me time, but I know now why you are as adored as you are. You are truly good, do you understand that?” Steven’s expression soured. “Why can’t you agree with that?” Before Steven could even think of an answer, James reached out and cupped his cheek. Steven’s breath left his chest when James admitted, “You are one of the very few good things in my life. You are my only light, Steven.”

 

Steven’s mouth opened but closed immediately after because he had no words to answer to that with. James leaned forward and for one brief moment, Steven had truly believed he would have been kissed, but James instead dropped his head down and leaned his cheek onto Steven’s shoulder.

 

“It’s childish, but…” James nuzzled his face into the crook of Steven’s neck and the blond flushed. “Will you promise to never leave me? You can lie to me—I’ll never know. But I have no idea what would become of me if my— _your_ sunlight was gone from my world. It’s the only sun I’ve ever known. I’m—” he shakily admitted, “I’m terrified, Steven, of the monster I would become without you here.”

 

Steven wrapped James up in his arms and soothingly ran a hand over James’s back. “I swore it then and I stand by it now—you are _not_ a monster. You never will be.”

 

“You sound so sure of that…”

 

“I _am_ sure.”

 

-

 

There had been someone else that Steven cared deeply for at the time, someone Odin had approved of very much and who the All-Father arranged to have wedded to his beloved son. Though she was called Nanna, ruler of the moon, at the time, you know her today as Margaret Carter. As another misguided attempt to sway Steven away from James in their next lives, Odin allowed her soul to be reborn as well, and the love story of Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter became as tragic as that of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.

 

What Odin had not been so aware of at the time was that, though Steven and Margaret loved each other, their immortal souls belonged to others. Indeed, it had not been James and Steven’s relationship alone that Lofn had blessed at this time.

 

On the eve of their wedding, Steven found Margaret on the edge of the palace which overlooked the vast oceans. As always, whenever in her presence, he let his own light dwindle in order to allow hers to shine more brilliantly and without rival. And she was stunning and no one could ever be her equal. She always seemed to twinkle brightest whenever by the seas, but that could have also been because she was happiest by them.

 

That night, though, had been different in more way than one. Margaret’s light seemed to…luster. Also, the waves seemed to have no control, they beat and crashed against the shore and he hoped that no mortals were out on them because they would have surely been swallowed up and sent to their watery graves.

 

Steven leaned on the bannister, touched his shoulder to hers, and watched the horizon. “I see the wave-daughters are not out tonight.” The nine daughters of Aegir and Rán controlled the waves which explained why the seas were so out of control. Steven loved to see the nine of them dance along the shore, no idea where their white dresses ended and the foam of the waves started.

 

“Yes, well,” Margaret frowned, “when one sister is unwell, the rest will keep inside the palace to help her. I’m sure you needn’t ask which daughter is distraught.” Her red lips pursed. “I tried to explain it to her, you know, that because I was soon to have a husband didn’t mean I would love her any less, but…she won’t come out to see me.”

 

Known at this time as Himinglaeva, Angela Martinelli had been the dearest and most precious of the wave-daughters. Steven often compared her to himself in the fact that her parents and all life that inhabited the oceans adored her. Well, the nighttime skies also adored her—the moon, to be exact. Their personalities seemed so completely opposite, but Angela made Margaret extremely happy, and he wanted nothing more for her than that.

 

“Let me speak with Aegir and Rán myself. I could convince them to let you court Angela,” he pleaded. “You know that no one can resist me for very long.”

 

“Because you pester them until they are nearly driven mad,” she shoved at his shoulder a little. “And as… _charming_ as you may be, we know that Rán would never let one of her cherished daughters come away with me past the shores, let alone to the stars.” Margaret turned her body toward him, and pressed a hand to his cheek. “And above all else, this is what Odin wants of us, my darling. We cannot disobey his wishes. He would never bless my union with Angela because he deems her a lesser being.”

 

Steven placed his hand over hers and clasped it tightly. “We could, if we wanted—disobey him.”

 

“We _could_ , but it’d be a very poor decision.” She pulled their joined hands down to rest on the bannister and raised a brow at him. “Though, I suppose a sad wave-daughter is nothing compared to an enraged wolf. Tell me, have you spoken to James since Odin declared our union?”

 

“What—I—” he sputtered as his cheeks started to redden. “ _How do you know about that_?” he hissed lowly.

 

“Have you forgotten that he is, technically, a child of the moon? Gave birth to him, I did not, but he is still mine, in a sense.” She scoffed. “In his cage, he may be separated from me, but we two are still connected—a bit one-sided since I can only feel the bond. Whenever your _visits_ last into the night, I can sense his longings.” She took in the surprise on his face and rolled her eyes. “It appears that there are some things I must explain to you. For the record, I believed you to have been smarter than this. You are _ridiculous_ , Steven.”

 

“Duly noted,” he croaked.

 

Margaret crossed her arms over her chest, took a moment to think, then began to explain. “When wolves howl to the moon, it’s a form of communication within their packs. Did you know this?” Steven nodded in answer. “But it can be deeper than mere speech, especially for James who is more human than beast. He so rarely has anyone else to speak with, you see, so when he howls, it’s often a release and I can hear what he has to say.” Her lips quirked upward in a smirk. “So, Steven, would you like to know what James wants most in this world?”

 

“Uh,” Steven replied intelligently.

 

“Ridiculous,” Margaret reiterated.

 

-

 

Steven made absolutely sure that, from that point onward, he would meet with James in the _daytime_ because it would be extremely awkward to have his new wife spy on him as he attempted to confess his…his _feelings_ for another. Both he and she had blessed one another’s outside relationship, but it still seemed to be in poor taste to put that on complete and total display for her to see.

 

James, however, decided he wouldn’t make the process any easier, because he refused to speak with Steven in his human form. Any time that Steven tried to approach the wolf and coax him into a more talkative form, James would growl or snarl—once he had even snapped at Steven’s hand, which made Steven yelp in a very unmanly manner—and then sulk away to never be found. Steven wondered how such a seemingly small place could have so many places for an enormous wolf to hide.

 

And when Steven went to Margaret for some kind of insight into James’s mind—to see if James even _wanted_ him anymore—and perhaps a little bit of advice, he spotted her on the shore, Angela’s head on her shoulder. The two women had made up, so why could James not allow them the same opportunity? As happy as Steven was for his dear Margaret, it was then that he snapped.

 

“Damn you, you insufferable idiot!” Steven shouted as he stormed inside the enclave and sealed the door shut behind him with his magic. James, still a wolf and by the river, slowly rose to his feet, but kept in low, cautious position. “If you refuse to talk to me then I’ll talk to you, damn it.” James clearly didn’t feel threatened anymore because he shook out his fur, huffed, and started to saunter toward the woods. “ _No_ ,” Steven snarled and stomped his foot on the ground, shot his magic outward so that the roots of nearby trees would start to crawl toward James, and maybe scare him a little bit to keep him where he was.

 

James, obviously, did not appreciate the threat. Steven, stupidly brave, refused to be scared when James turned on him and bared his fangs. “Go ahead and snarl as much as you wish. Rip me to shreds if you want. I don’t care. But I’ll continue to talk until I’ve spoken my peace, even while you’re tearing me apart,” he warned.

 

“What I’ve tried— _repeatedly_ ,I may add—to tell you is that my union with Margaret—” The hackles on the back of James’s neck rose and he petulantly turned his back on Steven. “My _union with Margaret_ ,” Steven ground out, “was not my choice. It was by my father’s order that we be wedded to each other. I care for her deeply and I love her, yes—” It seemed James wanted to take his chances with the roots, so Steven called out after him, “But her heart belongs to another and, more importantly, _so does mine_.” James stopped and the already lifeless enclave seemed to stand even more still. “This would be much easier if you wouldn’t act like a child.”

 

Complete and total silence passed between them and ever-so-slowly, James turned around and started to morph back into his human shape. “You’ve married a fool,” he snarled with his gravelly voice which tended to happen after a transformation.

 

“Don’t speak ill of her. She doesn’t deserve that,” Steven warned.

 

James crept closer to Steven, eyes narrowed and a heat behind them. “She _is_.” Steven’s face scrunched up in displeasure. “She should be wholeheartedly devoted to _you_ , not another. Doesn’t she understand the _gift_ she’s been handed? Do you know what I would do if I had the chance to become yours? I would drop to my knees and thank Odin himself.” He had actually dropped to his knees and buried his face the fabric that covered Steven’s stomach. “Why does shewaste the opportunity I beg for every day and night? It isn’t fair. Do you hear me? This isn’t _fair._ ”

 

“She’s a fool? _You’re_ a fool. Did you not hear _me_?” Steven crouched down, grabbed James’s face in his hands, and tugged him close so that their foreheads touched. “My heart is _yours_ , James. How do you not _see_ that?” While he spoke the words, he took James’s hand and forced it over his heart. “I understand it may seem wrong to you and to Margaret’s Angela, but our marriage will help keep suspicion away from our outside relationships.”

 

“You swear it to me,” James growled and shoved Steven to the ground. Hands on each side of his head, James settled between Steven’s legs, hovered over him, and clarified, “Swear to me you’re mine, Steven.”

 

Steven looped an arm around James’s neck and forced him down so their chests were flush to one another. “I swear it.” He leaned up a little so his lips ghosted over James’s. “My body, my heart, my _soul_ —it is all yours.”

 

James crushed their lips together and went on to claim Steven in every way he possibly could.

 

-

 

“I am yours too, my sun,” James whispered into his skin one day and Steven had never shined brighter.

 

And the two lovers could have never possibly known how envious others could be of such happiness.

 

-

 

Lofn sometimes thinks that Steven had been so loved that the universe itself had tried to keep him alive which had been the reason the dream came to him.

 

There had been whispers in the palace, about the dream, and some had even cried they were so terrified to lose him. Other than his parents, brothers, wife, and lover, only one other person had learned about the specifics of his dream—his nightmare—his premonition.

 

“Tell me about the dream,” the völva, the witch, Wanda Maximoff, demanded after desperate Frigga had practically dragged Steven to meet with her. Wanda had been deemed the most skilled clairvoyant in the nine realms, one that even Odin visited at times, but the future is and always will be muddied—even to the most skilled seers.

 

“I was murdered. Was that not clear enough?” Frigga, who had held her son’s hand ever since he went to his parents about the dream, tightened her grip and hissed, “Steven,” under her breath. He removed his hands from hers and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I apologize for any offense given—”

 

Wanda startled Steven when he looked up and she had been there in front of his face, her blood-red eyes locked with his own crystalline blue. “Do not move,” she ordered and held up a hand which slowly started to bleed out an energy. She pressed a finger to his forehead and he felt the dizzying rush of her magic wash over his mind. He closed his eyes in an attempt to steady himself and when he opened them again, she had stepped away, lost in thoughts—or perhaps visions.

 

“Blurred,” she murmured to herself. “Perhaps another’s magic at work—someone more powerful than myself,” she added a little louder, so that both Steven and Frigga could hear. Wanda returned to her seat across from them, blinked, and bluntly explained, “This is no dream. It _is_ a premonition, but it can be prevented if there is early enough intervention. Although, I cannot identify the perpetrator myself.”

 

Wanda hovered a hand over the runes across her table. “It may take time, but you could seek out every soul that could possibly cause harm to him, and force oaths to never harm your son. Should anyone refuse…you may do with them what you wish.” She stared unnervingly at Frigga and warned, “Make _everyone_ swear to the oath—every man, every creature, every poison, my queen.”

 

How could anyone have, even the wisest and most skilled witches, possibly known that a dream would cause so much death and destruction?

 

-

 

The next time Steven visited James, even with all his mother had done to protect him, Steven remained troubled—but that could have been because the nightmare continued to haunt his dreams each and every night. He tried to not let it show, but with their bond, it’d been easy for James to spot. “You’re scared.” He pointed out when he and Steven were curled up in the middle of a field and he nuzzled his face into Steven’s neck. “What has you so upset?”

 

“I had a dream.” Steven breathed out quietly. “But…the witch, Wanda, told me it was a premonition.” He paused. “I died— _die_ in the dream. I haven’t slept peacefully since it first came to me.” James tensed up at the confession and Steven refused to look at his lover. “Mother is out on a quest to have every man, creature, and the like swear they won’t harm me and Father’s told me she’s been successful so far, but…I’m still so unsure about everything.” He smiled a little then and pressed a sweet kiss to the dip in James’s chin. “Except about you, my love, I’ll always be sure about you.”

 

“Don’t try and distract me with sweets.” James mumbled and playfully bit Steven’s neck which made the god smile softly. “My sun,” he breathed out to catch Steven’s attention, “I don’t care how strong these bonds seem to be, if any harm were to come to you, I would break free and send the world to its knees as retribution.” He cupped Steven’s cheek, who sighed in content at the waves of love and affection that rolled off his lover. “No one would dare harm you so long as you’re mine.”

 

-

 

It had not taken as long as one would have expected for Frigga to complete her quest—various other goddesses had taken up arms with her and any creature that hesitated to swear an oath was met with a very displeased mother. There had been a lavish party thrown upon the All-Mother’s return to Asgard, and though Steven continued to have his nightmares, he celebrated with both his family and his lover. The morning after James had thoroughly ravished him all night long, Margaret had smirked knowingly, and Steven had blushed the entire day afterwards.

 

All had returned to normal in Asgard, it had seemed, other than the fact that a new game had begun to take form amongst the gods. It had come about when Thor, in the middle of one of his and Steven’s typical sparring matches, had accidentally misaimed his sword and would have harmed Steven if it were not for the barrier that formed between the blade and his skin. It had almost been as if his inner light took a mind of its own and decided it would protect Steven.

 

“Brother, you’re a human shield,” Anthony had declared gleefully before he scurried off to invent new and creative things to lob at Steven and watch bounce carelessly away from him.

 

-

 

“I’ve told you they were _jests_ ,” James called out from where he swam around in the river. “Expectation is made of _water_ , you fool.” Steven remained skeptical on the edge of the river and James wadded back to the shore so he could hold a hand out to his lover. “Now come swim with me.”

 

Could anyone blame Steven if he found it hard to refuse his lover whose skin glistened from the water?

 

When Steven had stripped down and both he and James floated around in the middle of the river, he wrapped up in James’s arms, he spotted a peculiar looking fish that continued to swim circles around he and his lover. “I’ve never seen _that_ before.”

 

“Hmm?” the other man looked at the aforementioned creature and blinked. “Neither have I.” He nibbled at the lobe of Steven’s ear. “Then again, we only fuck _by_ the river, never in it, so I haven’t taken time to look at what swims around in here.”

 

Steven laughed and punched James in the arm. “And we’re not _going_ to fuck in the river, you lecher,” he corrected and kissed James square on the mouth when he pouted at Steven. “I’m still unsure about whether this is really your drool or not. I won’t be taken in this _water_.”

 

“Tease,” James responded affectionately. “Natalia visited earlier,” he started conversationally. “She tries to hide it from me, but she adores you very much, as well. She was pleased to hear you would not be coming to see her in her realm.” There had been a smile on his face when he added, “But she said you shouldn’t tempt fate by making a game of _throwing weapons_ at yourself.”

 

“Oh?” Steven nervously chuckled and started to slowly swim away from James who, with that same disturbingly sweet smile, followed. “Well…it’s not as if I can truly be hurt!” he said in an attempt to defend his actions.

 

“You mean to tell me that every single soul in the nine realms swore an oath?”

 

“Mother went to everyone, yes, even _fauna_ , if you can believe it. She was relentless. However, she did mention she didn’t ask the mistletoe, I believe, but she told me, ‘ _What can that harmless little plant do to my son?’_ And she is correct in that,” he explained.

 

“Woe is me,” James lamented and Steven chuckled as he swam back into James’s arms. “I have fallen for a wild, reckless, danger-inviting oaf—” Steven rolled his eyes and silenced his lover with a not-so-chaste kiss, “—who has no—”

 

“If I let you have me here in the river, will you shut up?” he mumbled against James’s mouth.

 

James nodded eagerly. “Absolutely.”

 

The next time Steven and James were in the river, they never noticed that curious fish had gone missing.

 

-

 

We are told today that Hodr, brother to Baldur, had been the blind ruler of winter. Other than the blindness, this had been true, and you know Hodr today as Anthony Stark. Gullible he had not been—as portrayed in the tales you have heard—other than when taunted and teased by his brothers, as all siblings love to do. Anthony, as in every reincarnation, loved to invent and did that best, other than throw parties and wine and dine with women, of course, but in this one he did not possess the aptitude to be a warrior as both Thor and Steven did.

 

With no weapon to call his own, there had been no way for him to know that someone had tampered with the end of the spear Thor had shoved into his hands and order he throw at Steven. Even less skilled with fauna, he would have never ever known it was the essence of mistletoe that coated the tip of the weapon.

 

You are told that Steven dropped dead in an instant, but this had not been so because Anthony’s aim had not been true. The spear had cut him and Steven’s reaction could be compared to that of someone coming in contact with something they are allergic to—anaphylactic shock, if you will. Perhaps Steven’s soul remembered, even when it had been reborn anew, which is why he had come to develop asthma in his time as Steve Rogers.

 

Death had not been immediate, but it had come nonetheless, and with that death, summer had ceased to come to the human realm, and a terrible winter overtook the lands.

 

As for James…he never needed someone to speak the words out loud to him because Steven had been the other half to his soul and when he slipped away from the world…it’s said that James’s howls echoed across the universe. Paired with the vast frozen wastelands outside and the howling winds, men, women, and children cowered in their huts and tried to survive.

 

-

 

Natalia had been the one to deliver the news to James because—other than Margaret, who continued to mourn with the rest of Asgard—she had been the only one to know about his and Steven’s relationship. When she entered the dark enclave, James dropped to his knees in front of her and reached out to grasp the hem of her black, black dress.

 

“Give him back to me,” James desperately pleaded and doubled over in sorrow, placed his head to the dead grass. Dead, everything was dead around him, and only one could return life to the enclave, return life to the heart that somehow still beat inside his chest. “Please, sister,” he choked out, “let me have him back, Natalia. I want him back. I need him. If you love me, truly, then _bring him back_.”

 

“I cannot release his soul once it has entered my domain,” Natalia whispered and when James howled in despair, she dropped to her knees with him, and wrapped her arms around him, useless to do much else than console him. “Forgive me, James. I will never know love, but I understand the double nature it has, the joy and pain, and I would never wish this on my dearest brother.”

 

“Then kill me.” James begged shakily into her cool skin. “Use your death touch. End this pain. Let me be with him in Helheim.”

 

Natalia clutched him tighter and pressed her face into his hair. “You are cruel, to ask that of me. Even if I had the—I care so much for you, my brother. Perhaps it is love, perhaps not, but I care for you.” Her hand trailed down to tap the chains locked around his wrists. “And, it is cruel, but your death is not mine to control.”

 

-

 

Natalia would not release him from life, so James decided to remain in the cave—where he usually slept, where Steven had sometimes slept with him—until Odin sent him to Helheim. It had not been a week since Steven passed on that James’s father, Loki, appeared at the mouth of the cave. He schooled his expression into a blank one and approached his son that refused to move, even when he became aware of another’s presence in his domain.

 

“I have spoken with Natalia. She is concerned.”

 

James kept as still as death, would not even move to his human form, and with their familial bond, replied with, _“You know then?”_

 

“I do.” Loki’s lips pursed and he reached out to place a hand atop his son’s head, scratched behind his ear, a tactic he often used to make his son warm up to him when James had been a child.

 

James turned his head away. _“Leave me.”_

 

“You must rise above this—as much as you can. I cannot allow my son to wither away in here and allow Odin to win.”

 

A pause and then, _“What?”_

 

“I am so sorry, my son. You must forgive me for my sins.” Loki leaned down to press his forehead to James’s huge one. “I have caused you this pain. Odin has hated me since he took me into his palace. He learned of your affair with Steven and he would rather have his own son killed than see him with my own.” As he stroked James’s fur, as if that would soothe the pain he was about to inflict, he murmured, “Someone poisoned the spear thrown at him.”

 

_“And you’re sure it was Odin? Father, are you absolutely sure?”_

 

“I am,” Loki answered. “What I am about to ask, no father should ever ask of a son, but you are the only one Odin has ever feared. He has caused our family so much pain and now he has murdered his very own child in order to hurt you and spite me. Something must be done and I believe you are the only one to do it.”

 

The enormous beast rose to his feet. _“Tell me what to do, Father.”_ There had been no emotion to what James said and Loki could feel nothing but righteous fury.

 

“A statement should be made first, perhaps. Surely, a man is weaker when he has time to cower, especially an old one like Odin.”

 

_“I’ll swallow the sun.”_ Loki raised a brow and watched with satisfaction as his son’s fur slowly morphed into the bright, angry shades of the sun. _“He took my sun, so why shouldn’t I take his?”_

 

-

 

Women and children had been evacuated from the palace when James started to break free from his chains. Odin himself hadn’t been present because he had went to Midgard with Thor when someone had called the Midgard Serpent, Bruce, to arms and the serpent began to sweep around the earth, causing chaos and destruction. Everyone who had attempted to stand in the wolf’s path had died quick and painfully, no doubt.

 

Lofn had watched it all transpire and when darkness swept across the universe when James swallowed the sun, she had dropped to her knees and wept.

 

-

 

As the stories tell you, Thor and Bruce killed one another in their battle, and their souls remembered the terrible battle because, when Bruce Banner had been reincarnated, he again became a powerful creature that was even a match for the almighty Thor.

 

-

 

He was Vidar and he is Matthew Murdock and they are one in the same—they are silent warriors.

 

Odin refused to watch as James died, so Matthew had taken his place.

 

As James bled out, he warned Matthew, “Watch your back for Odin is bound to shove a blade in it when it’s turned.” He moaned pitifully when another bout of pain shot across his body. “Warrior of Odin, I know I have no place to ask, but please pray for me. Without a prayer, I can never see my beloved in Helheim.”

 

“I will pray,” Matthew, overcome with pity for the poor creature, had whispered and touched a hand to James’s head as he passed away.

 

-

 

At the very end of the world, Odin had tiredly sneered, “I hope it was worth it, Lofn.”

 

There had been no trial for Lofn because there had hardly been anyone alive to witness it. When Lofn died, she had went without a word, because, to her, love would always be worth it.

 

-

 

 

In 1930, when her son is twelve-years-old, he comes home from school, bloodied and bruised and with a proud smile on his face, and at his side is a dark-haired little boy that sports the same expression.

 

Sarah Rogers smiles like she has a secret and welcomes Bucky Barnes into her home like an old friend.

 


End file.
